


Off-Time

by serwhovian



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serwhovian/pseuds/serwhovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts on the (totally mature) friendship between Captain Demora Sulu, and her CMO, 22 years her senior, Doctor Joanna McCoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off-Time

Captain Demora Sulu usually kept an air of calm strength about her. Perhaps that's why she and Jo had bonded in the first place—Jo kept a cool, logical feel about her, but in both cases it was a work-only seriousness. Demora kept her father's quirky personality. Jo kept her dad's sprightly indignation, when life called for it.

\--

As soon as Demora settled down into a stance, Jo knew she was in trouble, and she voiced as much. “You daddy taught you, didn't he.” How had she let this woman persuade her into this? De just had that charm about her, she supposed.

“Of course.” Jo couldn't see the woman's smile through the mask, but she could feel it.

“Dammit.” She breathed the curse in all her Southerness, and lowered herself into what she hoped was an appropriate defensive stance; she had the steady hands of a surgeon, but not the know-how on handling a foil. Demora had briefed her some on technique, but maybe Jo had been a bit hasty on getting past the tutorial and getting this debacle over and done with.

The doctor waited for some sort of verbal communication to begin, but instead Demora tilted her head in a slight nod, then brought her foil to a vertical position—free hand behind her back. Jo had seen enough of fencing in the media to know she was expected to copy her, in a sort of bow, and she did so without the master's grace.

She waited.

Demora pounced.

Joanna gasped.

She liked to think she was nimble on her feet, but she found her long legs struggling to get her out of the way. It didn't even occur to her to attempt to defend herself with her own foil. She held the weapon close and jumped back. Demora's charming laughter filtered through her mask, and the woman made a little show of footwork as she danced her way closer.

“Hand up, Jo. You've got to parry.”

“Maybe this just aint for me,” she appealed, taking another step back as the Sulu brought her foil up vertical again.

“Nonsense! I'll make a fencer out of you.”

“I'm a doctor--”

“Not a fighter?”

“Are you poking fun at my daddy, kid.”

“Maybe.” There it was again. The invisible smile through the netted mask. Jo didn't get a chance to voice her retort, because Demora lunged at her again, and the older woman let out a very unrefined squeak as she leaped out of the way again. Her captain didn't seem so content to let her escape again, however, because the doctor presently found herself pursued. She stumbled back awkwardly, and when Demora made a gesture to her foil, raised it in a half-hearted block; her captain humoured her and met it with a brief, ringing clang, before swiftly manoeuvring around it and into Jo's personal space. The doctor didn't even have time to think.

The tip poked against her chest.

Joanna swore she could see a twinkle in the captain's eye behind that mask.

“Again!” Demora called out, whipping Jo's hip playfully (she started at that) with the weapon before pulling her foil away and back up vertical, stepping back out of range and turning to point its tip imposingly to the doctor.

She didn't even have a chance to lunge at her a third time—Jo had already backed up well out of her range, and so she took to pursuit again.

When she made a display of fancy swordwork in the air before her, the doctor's eyes widened again and she turned on her heel and fled.

“Hey! Jo! Get back here!” Demora wasn't angry; laughter rang through her words again, and she chased after the woman.

“Hell no!”

“Tease! You can't keep that up.” Demora kept her graceful stance, keeping to the centre of the room so that Joanna was forced to circle.

“You keep _that_ up, n' I'm movin' your physical to the top of the list!” The doctor retorted, standing straight to gesture peevishly at her captain with the unused foil.

Demora was still in her low stance; Jo's guard was down; she thrust forward again. The doctor made another sound and fled once again, and this time the captain flat out chased her.

Jo found herself running into a wall. Too much momentum—she half fell against it, jumping up onto the bench to prevent herself from tripping into it. She looked back, her captain in hot pursuit.

She found herself running along the bench to the far corner, before she could shove herself off the wall and run along the gym floor again—but Demora had caught up to her in this time, and she had to duck far too low to avoid a swing meant for her chest.

Still, the doctor proved her speed in her longer legs, and she put some distance between them again.

“I'll make a fencer out of you yet, Jo!”

“Like _hell_ you will!”


End file.
